Kiss With A Fist
by I.M. Elizabeth
Summary: Mello likes seeing her angry, likes the hot flush that goes into her cheeks, and sometimes he lies just to see her angry. Except this time he might have gone too far.  Mello/OC


Oneshot

The milk had just reached a simmer when Layla decided to start adding the chocolate, slowly shaving off the chocolate with the edge of her razor, the little curls hitting the milk and melting, becoming small brown circles. She reached for a wooden spoon that she kept hanging above the dilapidated stove and began to stir the mixture carefully, adding a cup of sugar as she did so.

After a moment of stirring the milk turned a dark brown, like coffee, and probably just as strong. She lifted the pan off the stove and then carefully poured the coffee into a small black mug. After kicking the stove because it refused to turn off, Layla slowly carried the mug out of the small, messy kitchen and into the dilapidated living room.

It surprised Mello to see Layla standing in the doorway as he lounged lazily on the couch. She usually kept to herself when there was no one in the house, leaving Mello to obsessively watch the news of Kira alone. Not that he really minded, he liked to be alone.

"Hot chocolate?" she said gently, holding the cup out to him like a small child would hand someone their favorite toy.

"Yeah, sure." he replied quietly, grateful for the warm drink. Their living room had no central heating so that every so often, cold air would blow through the cracks in the wall.

She watched him drink for a moment, taking in his features, his long blond hair, and sharp blue eyes. Those eyes glanced up at her as he took a sip of the chocolate she'd prepared for him and she glanced away, trying not to acknowledge the heat in her cheeks.

"Can I sit down?" she asked, "Of course I don't want to bother you if you'd rather be alone..."

Mello didn't reply, only moved his jacket over to the other side of the couch.

She sat there for a moment, feeling awkward and useless, and sneaking sidelong glances at Mello and his bare torso every so often.

Slowly she leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on Mello's shoulder, dragging her lip over the soft salty skin. He didn't seem to respond, only stared off into space and took another swig from the mug. Her kisses traveled up his arm, up his neck and after a moment her lips rested calmly on his jaw.

Then, her phone beeped, making both of them jump. She pulled it out of her pocket and smiled warmly, not noticing Mello's sharp blue eyes focusing harshly on her. Her pale fingers nimbly typed out a reply and she shut the phone still smiling.

Faster than she could even say her name, Mello picked up the phone and threw it on the ground, stepping on it so that it was evenly crushed under his boot, the two halves of it completely seperated.

"Mello, you asshole!" she snarled, jumping to her feet, it was hard for Mello not to notice the slender outline of her figure in those tight leather pants. "It was just Matt, goddamn!"

"So!" he said, egging her on, loving how her face flushed when she was pissed, "Why're you smiling so happy when Matt fucking talks to you? What, you like him better cause he's got no scars, huh?"

Her features softened for just a brief moment, then she spoke, her tone a little more even now, "Mello, you know I don't care about that."

"Bullshit!" He snapped, stomping his foot for good measure. "Fucking slag. I know you have the hots for him! Don't fucking lie."

Perhaps it had been the word slag, as Mello knew she positively hated that word, he'd honestly only expected her to go red in face and cuss and scream in the way that made him so hot. What he didn't expect was for her to go charging at him and backhand his face with the full force of her bodyweight. His anger set in before he even realized he'd raised a hand to her.

Her head whipped to the side almost dramatically, and when she slowly turned her head back her eyes were boiling with rage and something else...pain.

He felt terrible almost instantly, and quickly sidestepped her, hurrying to the kitchen. He quickly poured himself another cup of cocoa. He sipped gently at the drink and suddenly heard a soft keening noise.

_Shit,_ he thought angrily, _she's crying now._ _Goddamn it Mello you fucking ass._ If there was anything Mello couldn't take it was Layla's crying, it was the one thing that made his knees buckle and his heart go up in his throat, other than seeing her undressed of course. He'd never been a match for her tears, he hated how her little body would stiffen and shake, her breath gasping like she was drowning. It made him want to hold her close to him and whisper words of comfort in her ear.

But, Mello was no good at comforting. How would a mafia boss go about comforting someone? "Well baby, at least you're still sexy" Hardly the most comforting thing to say, and knowing Layla if he told her that he'd wake up with a very important missing body part. Best to just go in there and wing it. He took a deep breath, and strode into the living room.

As he guessed, Layla sat curled on the couch, her tiny body shaking in tandem with her sobbing. Slowly and carefully he sat himself next to her for a few moments until her tears subsided. Sucking in his cheeks he gently reached out a hand to stroke her hair.

"Ara puuta mind." she snapped, not realized she'd switched back to her native tongue. He took the liberty of feigning ignorance and continued petting her hair, slowly scooting closer to her until he was close enough to pull her into him.

She did feel nice, even with all her clothes on, and he pressed his lips against her hair, loving how she smelled like chocolate and mint. She seemed stiff in his arms, like a cardboard cutout and slowly he kissed her temple, then tipping his lips to her ear he began to croon in Russian "Gori, gori, moya zvezda, gori, zvezda privetnaya! Ty u menya odna zavetnaya, drugoy ne budet nikogda."

The words faded on his lips when she kissed him, long and full. His fingers slipped up to feel her cheekbones, still wet, her hair stuck to them like leaves. Her little hands reached up to stroke his neck and shoulders until finally they were pressed together, Mello pushing her back onto the couch gently.

Their clothes lay scattered on the floor and over the edge of the couch and Matt supposed it was lucky the two of them had a blanket covering them, seeing Layla naked was something he could live without.

He had walked in the door and found the two of them crashed on the couch, Mello's entire body draped over Layla in a way that almost seemed protective and more than anything possessive.

He spotted Layla's broken phone on the ground, and shook his head. Mello always used him to start fights with Layla and to be honest it drove him completely mad.

One of these days he'd have to tell Layla that he was gay.


End file.
